


The Vitruvian Man

by puskababy



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Gay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-06 03:54:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6737140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puskababy/pseuds/puskababy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zach is a successful hotshot model in his prime. His PA, Chris, is rather awkward with thick rimmed glasses and grandpa sweaters who doesn't even exfoliate. Zach is trying to get a big modeling deal for his favorite line of clothing. It won't be his career maker (since it's already been made) but he really wants this job. </p>
<p>Imagine Zach's horror when the designer, Karl Urban, doesn't want him, but his frumpy PA. This is the last thing Chris, who is very shy, self-conscious and not confident in the least, wants so he resists. Karl won't take 'no' for an answer, and when his people are done with Chris, he's gorgeous. Zach, deciding to sabotage Chris' suddenly budding career, decides to become his PA. He doesn't plan on falling for Chris in the process and finding himself trying to keep the harsh industry from changing the sweet man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, well I didn't anticipate not posting anything in a whole year. I'm very sorry if anyone has been waiting for something. 
> 
> Fanfic for me I feel is on the backburn right now, (possibly forever). In saying that, I have this fic and possibly two others that are incomplete and which I will complete and post, simply because I hate having things unfinished. It took me a little while to get back into this one, but I think I'm far enough ahead that I can start posting - it's not a massive fic, right now I'm anticipating 10-15 chapters. 
> 
> This came from a prompt round at Pinto BigBang (is that even still going anymore?) I loved the idea, thanks to whoever posted it. i had fun with this one, and coming back to it now reminds me how much I like writing Pinto fics.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think. :) 
> 
> The title comes from the Leonardo Da Vinci work of the same name, Le proporzioni del corpo umano secondo Vitruvio. Translated to English this means, 'The Proportions of the Human Body according to Vitruvius . It's that drawing of the man in two superimposed positions with his arms and legs apart within the circle. The drawing is based on the correlations of the ideal human proportions.

“I’m sorry but can we possibly move the fitting to 2 pm? Something’s come up in Zach’s schedule, we’ve had to move the shoot to 4pm. Is that a problem for you?” 

Chris Pine, PA extraordinaire squinted at his watch as he made his way through the busy Paris streets, an iPhone pressed to his ear and a tablet held in his gloved hands. He was late for an early morning shoot with his employer, Zachary Quinto, one of the most popular male models in the world. Well not late exactly, but Zach was always up and on the go early, especially in Paris. 

“It’s not? Thank you so much. Zach will be so pleased to see you this afternoon. Bye…”

Frowning, he stared at the now silent phone, wondering why people these days didn’t bother to end their conversations. He hated to be left hanging with only a dial tone. Taking a breath he slipped the phone back into his inside pocket and stepped into Zach’s favourite boulangerie, requesting in stammering French, two sweet almond pastries, knowing Zach would appreciate the sugar hit in the early morning. In fact, that was the whole reason he was out here in the first place, the 7am Paris streets were busy this early but Zach simply had to have his breakfast. And coffee, lots of coffee. 

“Merci beaucoup” Chris tucked the pastries against his chest as he headed back outside, ducking his head against the chilly breeze. He was aware his jacket and general appearance didn’t warrant more than a second glance from the fashionable elite, but that was fine by him. He didn’t need to be fawned over and adored. 

Suddenly his phone chirped, vibrating in his pocket and he struggled with his belongings for a moment before he was able to answer. 

“Hello? Oh! Zach, I’m on my way, just picked up some breakfast…yes, I can meet you there…ok sure, what was it again? Apple and berry…sure I’ll see you…”

“Soon” he finished, rolling his eyes as the dial tone sounded. Perfect, now Zach wanted an apple and berry juice to go with his morning coffee. How the hell was he going to find something like that this early? 

Squinting again, he fumbled with his glasses for a moment, rubbing the lens against his shirt to clear off the smudges before he headed off across the street, spying a place that looked like it would have what Zach wanted. 

Sure there were days when he felt like his life echoed that of Anne Hathaway’s in The Devil Wears Prada, but Zach wasn’t nearly as heinous as Miranda Priestly, and he wasn’t nearly as pretty as Anne. Or as hopeless, sure he was an awkward, somewhat frumpy mess (Zach’s words), but he was damn good at his job. 

“Thank you so much,” he said once he’d secured two strong coffee’s and Zach’s apple berry juice…thing. Now his hands were well and truly full, but luckily he was able to hail a taxi and head across town to where Zach was meeting with the designers at Alexander McQueen. He had an early morning fitting for a photo shoot for the famous design house’s new winter line. 

Once he’d paid the driver he rushed into the building and up the stairs, hoping against hope that the fitting hadn’t started yet, Zach hated being held up and he’d be in a bitchy mood all day if he didn’t get some food into him. He’d just turned the corner when he heard a familiar voice. 

“Chris there you are! Jesus Christ what took you so long?” Zach’s voice cut through the silence of the early morning and Chris turned, just as an aide brushed passed. Later on, after the event Chris would roll his eyes and brush it off, but it seemed his bad morning was just about to get worse, as the impeccably dressed woman’s stiletto heel caught on the loop of one of his sloppily tied shoelaces just as he took a step, and because this was Paris and because Chris really was as hopeless as Anne Hathaway, he went flying, landing in a pool of spilled coffee and squashed breakfast pastries. 

Fucking perfect. 

“Oh my God” the woman exclaimed as she turned disdainful eyes on the fallen PA. For his part, Chris just sat there amidst the slowly spreading mess, a mixture of hot coffee and the thick apple-berry juice ruining his clothes, the squashed pastries warm against his shirt. His glasses had come off in the fall and everything was blurry, which was probably a good thing right now, as he could feel the eyes of every single person on the floor on him. 

“Is there a bathroom nearby?” Zach asked after a moment of shocked silence, in which Chris continued to sit on the floor. 

“Third door on the right”

“I’ll just go get cleaned up” Chris mumbled, his eyes widening when Zach carefully helped him up, making sure to keep his perfectly manicured hands away from the mess. Chris hoped he hadn’t done too much damage to the surrounds. 

“We’re going to get started as soon as you’re ready Mr Quinto” the same woman Chris had knocked spoke now, and Chris realised with growing horror that she was the McQueen rep. He just couldn’t seem to catch a break today. 

“I’m ready. We’ll be in there when you’re done” Zach said, turning and following the others. Just as the door closed Chris heard him ask if there was any coffee. 

 

***

 

“So that was a mess out there right? Who was that guy?” one of the many McQueen reps commented as Zach was handed yet another shirt. 

“That ‘mess’ was my PA, and hopeless doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Zach said as he slipped on the next item – a black silk long-sleeved shirt that felt delicious against his skin and made his complexion glow. 

“How does he even do his job under all those clothes?”

Zach shrugged, thinking of the other man. Chris always looked hopeless, multiple shirts under hideous grandpa jackets, battered Chuck Taylors and absolutely appalling black-framed glasses. He really was a mess. 

“Despite everything he does a good job”

The rep raised an eyebrow and handed him another outfit, all the while making notations on his tablet. McQueen’s new winter line would debut at Paris fashion week along with a slew of new advertisements, which would mean a whole lot of work for both he and Chris in the upcoming weeks. While landing the McQueen campaign was brilliant, it wasn’t what Zach was most interested in. 

His favourite designer, a New Zealander by the name of Karl Urban had been quietly advertising for models for his new line, and Zach simply had to get involved. Karl’s designs were flawless: he favoured long clean lines and classically masculine textures that he simply adored. Chris had arranged for a fitting with the designer himself, and they were to fly out to New Zealand that very afternoon. 

Once he was done with the fitting he lingered for a moment in the room, waiting for Chris to return and making sure everything was organised for his next appointment. Finally after a few moments of frustrated silence (on his part) Chris emerged from the bathroom wearing a set of clean clothes, his ridiculous beanie back on and the glasses resting atop his nose. His cheeks were faintly flushed and it was obvious he was uncomfortable with the furtive glances that were flung his way. Zach felt mildly sorry for him. 

“Um, there’s a car waiting downstairs and I arranged for some fresh coffee and breakfast stuff, it should be waiting inside. I spoke to the people at Dior and they’ve agreed to push back the fitting till 2pm, so that will leave time for the phone conference with the people at Urban Designs. Our flight out tonight is at 9pm, we have an hour layover in KL”

“Good. Let’s go then” Zach pushed open the door and stepped out into the chilly mid-morning foot traffic, immediately spotting the black town car that would whisk him to his next appointment. Chris slid in beside him, his head bent over his iPad while he did some more work, leaving Zach to enjoy his coffee in peace and quiet. 

 

***

 

By the time they made it onto the flight, much later that night, Chris was exhausted, his eyes itched behind his glasses and he wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep off the embarrassment of the day. Thankfully nothing else had happened. 

While his job was often exhausting and didn’t leave much time for his own personal life, he had to admit the perks of travelling with a celebrity such as Zach were pretty awesome. Tonight they were travelling in first class, which meant they’d get their own booth. It also meant Zach’s every whim would be catered for by someone else, and Chris was looking forward to getting some shut-eye. Just before they took off Chris shot off one final email to the people at Urban Designs, informing them of their ETA before he shut off all his electronic gear and stared out the window as the plane taxied down the runway. 

Sighing softly he tried to put this bad day out of his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely comments on chapter 1. I hope you enjoy this next installment. 
> 
> Btw, I know nothing about the fashion industry.

New Zealand was a literal breath of fresh air, and despite the long-haul flight, Chris was looking forward to spending some time here. For months now Zach had been telling him how excited he was for this new designers line, and how he simply had to be a part of it, and Chris had been pleased he’d managed to get him an appointment. Karl Urban was known to insiders in the industry as being very selective with his models, he had a very specific image in mind, and he tended to stick to his favourites. Chris had no idea how today’s session would go, but hopefully he wouldn’t be spilling any coffee. 

As they made their way out of the terminal into the late afternoon sunlight, Chris was glad he wasn’t the one on display, because he was sure he looked a fright. Zach as usual, looked perfect, his dark eyes hidden behind mirrored sunglasses and his hair artfully mussed. Chris had long ago quashed his attraction to the other man, there was no way someone like Zach could be even remotely interested in someone like him – but he could still appreciate the view. 

He hung back as Zach introduced himself to the receptionist, making arrangements to have their luggage transferred to their hotel rooms. He’d arranged two suites at the Hilton for their indefinite stay here, if Zach got the contract with Urban then they would rearrange their living arrangements. 

“Right this way gentlemen” the receptionist headed off down a pristine white hallway, Zach seeming to float along behind her while Chris floundered along trying not to fall over or make too much noise. 

“Karl will be with you shortly, help yourself to tea and refreshments” She indicated a table laid with tea and coffee and various fruits and cookies. 

“Make me a coffee would you Chris?” Zach said as he sank down onto one of the comfortable armchairs. 

Chris nodded and stood to do just that, busying himself with the urn and cups and trying not to make too much noise. Zach hated it when he fumbled and flailed around. His sister Katie was always at him to get up and find another job, but he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. Plus, Zach paid him handsomely. 

He’d just handed off the beverage when the double doors at the end of the large room burst open and in stepped Karl Urban, flanked by his team, all impeccably dressed and buzzing around like busy bees. Zach stood up. 

“Mr Urban it’s so lovely to meet you, let me just say I’m a big fan of your latest collection and I’d love to be a part of it,” he said, extending his hand. 

Karl’s hazel eyes swept over him and Chris knew Zach had to be feeling uncomfortable, he was used to people falling over themselves to get near him – not this. The room was silent as Karl perused the model, his well-toned arms crossed over his chest. 

Finally, he spoke. 

“Hello Zach, it’s nice to meet you. I’m sure you’re a great model, but you’re not what we want for this campaign”

Zach blinked. “I’m sorry what?”

Karl smiled and Chris got the distinct feeling he was used to meetings like this. He glanced up at the designer again and saw his eyes firmly resting on him. 

“I’m sure you’re a fantastic model, and I’m sorry you’ve travelled such a long way to be here today, but I can’t use you. You’re an attractive man there’s no doubt, but you’re not right.”

Zach’s mouth dropped open, but Karl didn’t give him a chance to speak, instead he turned his gaze on Chris. 

“You, on the other hand, are perfect”

***

“I’m sorry what?” Zach gasped as Karl gently coaxed Chris out of his chair. 

Karl turned back to him. “Is he with you?”

“He’s my PA, I’m sorry I don’t exactly understand what’s happening here” Zach set his coffee mug down on the table, trying to control his temper. What the fuck was going on?

“Well Mr Quinto, your PA here is a very handsome young man. What’s your name?” Karl turned back to Chris, who was looking increasingly terrified at the close scrutiny. 

“Chris” his voice was soft, like always. He was a softly spoken guy, Zach sometimes had to get him to speak up. 

Karl put an arm around him. “Well, Chris I think you're perfect for my new collection. You’ve got just the look I’m after…”

Zach stared as Karl led his PA away, wondering how on Earth someone could find poor, frumpy, hopeless Chris attractive. Sure he had nice blue eyes, but they were hidden behind hideous glasses, and he wasn’t totally unfortunate looking, but really? Nowhere near model material and Zach didn’t think he had the thick-skinned nature to even hold up against some of his counterparts. Chris was sensitive. 

“…really sorry but I don’t think I can do it. I mean it’s a tremendous honour and I’m pleased you think I’m good enough, but I can’t do it…” Chris was saying, his cheeks flushed. He looked supremely uncomfortable. 

Karl shook his head. “Nonsense, you’ll be perfect. We just need to clean you up a bit first. We can do all that here, we’ve got a salon on the premises” 

Chris shook his head, but Karl didn’t let him speak. Zach was starting to think this guy bullied his models into getting them to do what he wanted. 

“I think you’ll have a different point of view after you let my team work on you. It’s nothing too major, we’ll just tidy you up a bit: give you a new style and such. I think we should get started. Gia? Could you come take Chris out the back please?”

Just before the caramel-skinned and extremely gorgeous Gia swept Chris from the room he turned wide eyes on Zach, who smirked and stood back, allowing them to pass. Chuckling to himself he sat down again and reached for his now lukewarm coffee. Might as well stay and see the show. 

This ought to be interesting.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So glad you're enjoying this. :)

It took Karl’s team three hours to transform Chris, and Zach was pretty fucking bored by the time they finished. He’d tried almost everything to keep himself occupied, including offering to help the stylists, to which the answer was a resounding no. He simply wasn’t allowed anywhere near the ‘creative process’. He’d rolled his eyes so many times now he was worried they’d fall out of his head. 

Finally they were done though, and he stood up expectantly as the doors flew open. Karl was looking more than a little weary, as was his team, but they looked relieved. 

“You’re not going to believe this,” he said, stepping aside to reveal another man standing just behind him. This guy was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous, lightly tanned skin, tall and trim, dirty blonde hair artfully styled, a strong jaw line and impressive blue eyes gazed back at him and then it hit him.

It was Chris. 

“Oh my God” Zach blurted, unable to believe what was in front of his own face. Gone were Chris’s hideous grandpa sweaters, (complete with the elbow patches), gone were the black-framed glasses and in their place stood absolute perfection, dressed in an absolutely perfect suit. Even the colour of the shirt underneath was perfect - crisp white, and gleaming against the tanned skin. 

“Is it ok?” Chris asked, ducking his head shyly. The movement was so characteristically him that Zach laughed. He was still in there, waxed and plucked to within an inch of his life, but he was still there. 

Karl rested his hand on Chris’s Armani clad shoulder. Zach would recognise the cut of an Armani suit anywhere, and was a little shocked that it was gracing Chris’s frame. Not that he didn’t deserve to be wearing it, but it just felt…weird. 

“You look more than ok Chris. You look hot, right Zach?”

“Yeah. Hot” he echoed, feeling something strange unfurl in his chest. He couldn’t identify what it was, and his first instinct when he felt this way was to lash out. 

“But landing one campaign isn’t going to do much. He’s too old”

Was it his imagination or did Chris’s shoulders slump? 

Karl frowned. “Bullshit. I mean yes it’s going to take some work, but you can still make a name for yourself. I mean look at those baby blues”

Chris chewed his lip and Zach suddenly noticed just how full they were, pink and lush even trapped between his teeth. 

“I don’t want to make a name for myself, I um…don’t even really want to do this. I’m only doing it because you said so” Chris’s voice was low and Zach felt a tiny spark of regret zing through him. 

Karl didn’t seem to hear him, he was already in the process of rattling off about a dozen things Chris needed to do and have done before he could ‘make it’. First of all was finding a PA. 

“You’re going to need someone to help you with all this, you can’t be seen running around like a headless chicken now, not when you’re one of my models” Karl was saying as he scrolled through his phone, obviously looking for some kind of contact. 

“I’ll do it,” Zach said before he could stop himself, surprising them both. 

Chris glanced up, shock written all over his lovely features. Zach still couldn’t quite believe it was him. How could that hotness have been hidden under all that ugly? 

“I’m sorry what?” Karl looked equally shocked. 

“I said I’ll do it. I mean you said yourself Chris is going to need someone who can get him established. I’ve been working for years now and have quite a substantial contact list. I can get him set up”

Karl grinned. “Great. Well, there you go. I’ll leave you in Zach’s capable hands Chris. I’ll have the details of our contract drawn up and faxed over to your hotel. Where are you staying?”

“I made arrangements at the Hilton, rooms 123 and 124” Chris answered promptly. 

“Great. Now I’ll want you back here tomorrow afternoon for some preliminary fittings and photos. There’s a whole pile of stuff I want you to have today, I’ll send it to the hotel later, just some stuff for your wardrobe, we’ve got to update it a bit. But other than that, you’re free. I’ll see you at 2pm tomorrow”

Chris nodded. “Ok. See you then”

With one final pat on the shoulder Karl left, leaving the well-dressed pair still reeling.

***

Things were a bit quiet on the drive to the hotel, but that was fine with Chris. He sat in the back of a cab, Zach next to him tapping on the tablet – a vast difference from how they’d been only hours ago. He felt strange sitting here with nothing to do – for the first time in a long time he stared out the window at his surrounds, instead of working hard on securing whatever Zach wanted. 

Absently he ran his fingertip along the cuff of his jacket – a sleek pinstriped Armani suit that was probably worth more than his whole wardrobe. It felt delicious against his skin, soft and warm, not unlike his favourite jacket – but he had to admit this probably looked far more appealing. Not something he usually went for, but it would do. Karl had confiscated his glasses for the moment as well – he claimed he was updating the style for a more classic look, which left him squinting through contact lenses he hadn’t worn in years. He couldn’t wait until they reached the hotel so he could take them out, he conveniently failed to mention that he had a spare pair of glasses in his toiletries bag. 

“What should we do for dinner?” Zach asked once they reached the hotel and their adjoining rooms. Chris paused and ran a hand through his newly cropped hair. 

“Um I was just going to order in? I’m sure room service will be ok”

Zach nodded. “Alright. You’ll let me know if you need anything tonight right?”

Chris managed a nod. “Ok”

“Enjoy all…that” Zach said, his eyes widening as a porter came down the hall laden down with numerous bags of various shapes and sizes. It seemed Karl’s few ‘item’s’ had turned into half a department store, and Chris was a little shocked. His clothes hadn’t been that hideous had they?

Chewing absently on his bottom lip he swiped his access card and let the porter into the room ahead of him, tipping him generously before he left. Finally it was blessedly quiet and he loosed a big breath, slipping off his shiny new (tight) shoes and slinging his jacket over the arm of a sofa chair. All was still in the room – a welcome change from the whirling energy of Karl’s offices. He still couldn’t quite believe what had happened, why the hell would Karl want someone like him to lead his new winter line?

“Because you’re attractive Chris” Karl had said earlier that afternoon, after he’d thrown every piece of clothing created by every single designer at him. 

Now standing alone in his plush hotel room Chris still couldn’t believe it, after all clothes don’t change a man. He was still bumbling, awkward (hopeless) Chris, PA to the worldly, ethereal model Zachary Quinto, that was the way it was and things didn’t change overnight. 

Pushing these thoughts from his mind he turned to the pile of bags and cases that had been left on the floor, equal parts interested and terrified at what he might find. He’d just take a quick look, then get some shut-eye. He didn’t want to disappoint Karl at this meeting tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I know nothing about high fashion or the various fashion weeks or how they work.

Chris was up well before Zach the next morning, making use of the hotel’s gym before he went back to his room to shower and change. He didn’t really know what to do with himself now that all his responsibilities had been taken away. He felt strangely bereft. 

The cases Karl had sent over were still strewn about on the floor, and he sifted through the contents wondering what to wear. This had never normally been much of a problem for him – his choice of attire was as Zach said, limited. The suits and shirts, trousers, shoes, socks and even underwear contained in the cases were all amazing, but a little intimidating. Karl had even sent over a whole line of skin care products, cleansers, astringent, moisturisers, exfoliators, hell even an illuminating gel. It was all new to him. 

The clothes were all in his exact size, well the size Karl said he was – apparently he’d been wearing his pants too big for years now. (“You’re a 34’ waist Chris, not a 36) The shirts all bore designer labels he’d never dreamed of wearing, Gucci, Armani, Hugo Boss, Lanvin, Tom Ford – the list went on, the shoes were all different styles, from wing tips, to loafers, sandals and even runners. He sighed and pushed them all aside, his head buzzing. Modelling was so far from what he’d envisioned his life becoming, how was he going to do this?

“Come on Chris, they’re just fucking clothes,” he said harshly, snapping the closet door closed just as his hotel room opened. Zach stood in his doorway, his hair artfully tousled clad in black skinny jeans and a blazer over a white tee. The ensemble was far more casual than Chris had seen him in, in a long time, but it suited him, as did everything. 

“Morning. Karl’s assistant just called, they want you over at the studio earlier than 2pm. We’ve got to go now”

“Um ok, just let me change,” Chris said, crossing his arms over his chest. Being around Zach always made him nervous, though his own body was nothing to be ashamed of. 

Zach nodded and reached for his phone, speaking quickly to someone and assuring them they’d be there as soon as possible. He didn’t move from the doorway, and Chris didn’t know if he was expected to just change here in front of him, or send him away. He certainly wasn’t used to stripping off with an audience. 

After a few moments in which neither man moved Zach looked up. 

“Chris don’t be shy, get moving. How do you expect to be a model if you can’t get changed in front of someone?”

Chris’s cheeks flushed. 

“Fine, I’ll wait in the other room” Zach allowed: leaving the door to wait in the adjoining living room. 

Grateful that at least for the moment he was alone, Chris turned back to his clothes, eventually deciding on a white tee, with dark jeans, (new, clean) Converse and a grey blazer. In went the new contact lenses, and he ran his hands through his hair a few times, aiming for the easy style that Zach had mastered. Hopefully he looked ok, and if he was judging by Zach’s small intake of breath when he re-entered the other room, he looked pretty good. 

“Ok let’s go. Breakfast is provided” Zach managed, leading the way out to the waiting car. Chris took a breath and slipped his new Wayfarers on, trying to quiet his nervous stomach. 

Karl knew what he was doing, right?

***

“So I think these will work for the first shots, then we’ll move to the suits and more formal garments. Then lastly we’ll do the leisure and swim- wear” 

Chris watched as the array of clothes and shoes and socks and swim trunks were paraded in front of Karl, in an endless display of multi-hued fabrics. Karl simply stood back and let everything come to him, surveying his wares like he was at a horse auction. When it was his turn to slip into some of the clothes Karl wasn’t sure of, Chris felt remarkably like the horse. 

“No I don’t like that on him, definitely not his colour,” Karl remarked, and the magenta paisley silk shirt was whipped over Chris’s head before he even had time to do up the buttons. He was once again reduced to a self-conscious, stammering mess as he was repeatedly undressed and re-dressed in front of the occupants of the room, Karl, his various assistants that fluttered around him like butterflies, Gia the head stylist and her team, and (to his horror) Zach, who simply stood to the side and offered his uncompromising dark gaze. Chris knew he was under close scrutiny, and also knew he’d be found wanting no matter what Karl said. It was strange but he felt this absurd desire to impress Zach, to make him realise that he was semi-decent looking, that he didn’t need these fancy clothes to be seen that way. In truth, he had no idea where this desire had come from, and he did his best to ignore it. God knows Karl gave him enough to think about. 

So far in his newly fledged career, Karl had secured him for the upcoming glossy catalogue shoot that was to take place tomorrow. This catalogue was to be distributed at Paris fashion week, along with some of the best shots from the upcoming advertisements he was also booked for. Right now Karl was in talks with the team about Paris fashion week, namely his upcoming runway show – which Chris had been told he would lead, showcasing a selection of Karl’s best pieces, which would include swim and leisure wear, which would mean Chris would have to appear in front of the millions of people gathered, in nothing but spandex. 

God help him. 

So now, (as if Karl’s team hadn’t done enough plucking), he was booked in for a bikini wax, something he’d never had done, and never thought he would ever have done. Chris didn’t even think normal men had them done: he wasn’t an overly hairy guy besides the normal amount. But Gia and her team and even Karl hadn’t been able to suppress their shocked gasps and mildly horrified faces when he’d appeared in front of them wearing the chosen piece of swim- wear, with a few stray pubic hairs traitorously escaping the clingy fabric. 

“It’s ok, we can fix that. Zach book him in for a wax and tidy would you?” Karl had called, telegraphing to the whole room (as if they didn’t already know), his seemingly hideous problem. Chris had merely stood there, hands cupped protectively over his groin, face flushed and hoping the ground would swallow him whole. This so wasn’t what he had planned for his life. 

“Ok let's take a break” Karl called, bringing Chris back to the present. Everything was whipped off and he was clad once more in the white terry-cloth robe he’d been given when they’d first arrived. Sighing tiredly he made his way over to the refreshments and set about making himself a sandwich, only glancing up when a white paper plate was shoved under his nose. 

“You should be eating this. White bread is empty carbs” Zach suggested: handing him the plate and removing the offending sandwich. 

“But I’ve always eaten white bread. I hate seed bread, it gets stuck in my teeth” he said, glancing down at the plate. 

Zach snorted indelicately. “Well if you’ll take a peek down at the plate there, you’ll see no seed bread, no white bread, in fact no bread of any kind. Salad Chris, that’s what you need, and that’s what you’ll get. Now eat up”

With that Zach sauntered off to resume his seat, busy with something on his tablet. Chris wondered what exactly he had planned for him next – no on second thought, he didn’t even want to think about it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this one last night, as you can see it's 10 chapters in total.   
> I also have one more Pinto fic going that I promise I'll finish - just having a bit of a block about it at the moment. 
> 
> Yes, Zach acts like a prick in this chapter, but he'll come round.   
> I've never been to Paris, but always wanted to go. This fic seemed a good place to explore it a bit more. And it's part of Fashion Week, along with New York, London and Milan. 
> 
> I based Zach's suit off the one Adam Lambert wore to the Grammies in 2011. I know Zach's sense of style in real life isn't as flashy as Adam's was/is, but I decided to make him a bit more adventurous with his clothes, he is after all, a model. You can see a picture of the suit here -   
>  http://www.justjared.com/photo-gallery/2519420/adam-lambert-grammys-2011-01/
> 
> Enjoy!

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Captain has now turned on the seatbelt sign. Please ensure that your tray tables are placed in the upright position and I’ll take this time now to remind you to please switch off all electronic devices. Cabin crew, arm doors and cross check”

Zach switched off the iPad and slid it into the case, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Once again they were back on their way to Paris, only this time their positions were vastly different. He still couldn’t quite believe it actually, and if he was honest with himself, still harboured a small amount of resentment toward Chris – unfair as it was. He’d been after that Urban job for months, and Chris had just swooped in and taken it from under him. 

If he were a more petty man Zach would have entertained the thought of deliberately sabotaging Chris’s fledgling career, but in all reality, it seemed like he was going to end up doing that himself, from sheer hopelessness. He just wasn’t suited to this lifestyle, and it showed. Still, maybe if he fucked this up with Urban, then Karl would realise what a mistake he’d made in hiring him. It was all a matter of time really. 

Still he mused, glancing over at Chris who was sound asleep against the window, there was a rather adorable puppy-ish cuteness about him – something Zach found oddly attractive. It wasn’t what he normally went for in a man: normally he liked razor sharp wit, high cheekbones and rock-solid abs. So far Chris had only one of those attributes, he hadn’t bothered to enquire about the others. 

Any further enquiries would have to wait he decided as he lightly shook Chris’s shoulder and gathered up his belongings. 

“We landed yet?” Chris asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes under his new glasses (very slick Prada frames). Despite sleeping for most of their flight, he still looked pretty wrecked, and Zach didn’t envy the stylists that had to work with him come tomorrow. 

“Not yet. Now do you know what’s happening for the rest of the day?” he asked, bringing the itinerary to the front of his mind. 

Chris shook his head, frowning. “More sleep I hope. Wasn’t there something about a gala dinner or something? Was that tonight?”

“Yes, we have a gala dinner to attend tonight. You don’t need to know what it’s for, you just have to show up and be beautiful. Don't worry, there's a stylist coming to make sure you are. Your suit is already at the hotel, and a car will be by to pick you up at seven”

“You’re not coming?” Chris asked: sounding concerned. 

Zach nodded. “No, I’ll be there. But you will be arriving separately. I’ll be inside already – long before you get there. Don’t panic”

“Ok” Chris said quietly, and Zach was struck by that same odd feeling that had come over him when he’d first seen the newly made-over Chris, back in New Zealand. He still couldn’t place it. Was it protectiveness? Pride? 

Whatever it was Chris seemed to have this strange sort of trust in him, which was again something he really wasn’t comfortable with. While he’d never displayed open affection in their time together, he’d never shown open hatred either – more a sort of distant disdain. After all, Chris had never really been in his league before. But now that he was? 

“Don’t worry about the bags, I’ll have them delivered to the hotel,” he said as they made their way through the terminal. 

“Oh, will you?” 

“Yes Chris, you’ve done that for me countless times. Now I’m returning the favour,” he said, slipping his sunglasses on to ward off the afternoon sun. Paris was, as usual, glorious, even with heavy grey clouds looming in the distance. 

“Cool”

Together they made their way through customs and then to the town car he’d secured for them, arriving at their hotel and to the blessed quiet of their adjoining rooms. Zach shuffled Chris off to his room then locked himself in his own, taking a moment to look at the bespoke McQueen suit hanging from the back of the door. 

It was a truly lovely garment, sleek and sexy and as usual, impeccably tailored. He loved the snakeskin panels on the front, the skinny leg trousers and the onyx cufflinks, and he knew it would suit him to a tee. He might be masquerading as a PA for now, but he wasn’t going to let anyone forget his actual job. He knew it, Chris knew it, he was pretty sure everyone who was going to this gala tonight knew it – he was a model, not a PA. 

He just had to bide his time. This wouldn’t last for long.

***

As Chris slipped into his snazzy new suit he tried once again to swallow the butterflies rising in his stomach. This would be his first major outing as a model, and while he looked the part (thank you Hugo Boss), he was still working on the attitude. Of course, he’d never really paid that much attention to how models acted, apart from Zach who acted like a selfish child most of the time. That was unfair though – Zach was busy and had constant demands on his time and attention. Didn’t stop him being attractive, but it wasn’t something he naturally gravitated toward. 

Taking a breath he stared at his reflection in the mirror, hoping his complexion wasn’t splotchy or dehydrated – of course, Karl had thoughtfully supplied him with products for that, he thought, rummaging through the contents of his toiletries bag. He’d already been thoroughly schooled on how to use all the products within it – and after scrutinising his face for a few more moments: he decided he didn’t need anything else on his face, clogging his pores. The stylist had done her job admirably, and he felt and looked, transformed. 

He also decided to forgo the contacts, instead opting for his new glasses and added the new diamond cufflinks and tie pin. His shirt was a deep shimmering blue that he had to admit, went well with his skin tone and the slate-grey wool of the suit. After one last adjustment to his hair, he was ready to go: and trotted down to the lobby to await the car Zach had organised. It was still weird to him, to see Zach in his former position and he couldn’t help but feel some strange sort of antagonism – of course, this could have simply been Zach’s usual irritation with him, but he felt it was different. 

Soon enough a black town car pulled up and he was soon on his way to the venue, spotting the flash bulbs of numerous cameras as the car slid to a crawl. He highly doubted anyone was here to see him, so he felt more than confident in telling the driver to stop well before the red carpet. The invitation was in his inner pocket, he didn’t need to parade himself around, and he was in no way in the same league as most of the others here. The man at the door looked surprised to see him with such a high profile invitation, but waved him inside and Chris had to work hard to keep his composure. 

The room was literally sparkling – both with diamonds, gold and celebrities. He immediately spotted Rosie Huntington-Whitely, on the arm of Jason Statham, Doutzen Kroes, Natalia Vodianova, Heidi Klum and even Gisele Bundchen among the glittering crowds, as well as numerous people he’d seen Zach work with, designers, photographers and other denizens of modelling elite. What the hell was he doing here again?

Snagging a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, he cast about for a familiar face, spotting Zach standing across the room, a small crowd around him. He looked resplendent in a shimmery suit that beautifully suited his colouring and style. He actually looked the part tonight, like a glittering distant star, while Chris still felt horribly earthbound. No-one knew who he was (which was perfectly fine), but he did notice a lot of curiously appraising glances thrown his way, lots of women floating by waving airy hellos with their manicured hands. Hopefully, he didn’t have to stay long – he was feeling increasingly that he was in the wrong place, the wrong time, the wrong bloody industry. 

Swallowing a fresh wave of butterflies, he started to move through the crowd toward Zach, hoping a familiar face would ground him a bit. As he pushed through the people thronging around him, he caught Zach’s gaze and grabbed another glass for him. He didn’t recognise the people crowded around him – maybe Zach would introduce him. But as he got closer it didn’t take him long to realise that that would never happen. 

“You know I’m actually working tonight, not as a model, strange as that might sound but as a PA. Of course, I’m the best dressed damn PA in this room, but I’m actually working for my real PA. It’s a funny story actually, sort of a social experiment. You know Urban designs? Well, Karl got it into his head that my former PA Chris would be perfect for his new campaign. This is total bullshit, Chris is totally hopeless, and while I’ve been wanting to get him to clean up his act a bit, he’ll never make it in the industry. It’s hilarious”

The crystal champagne flute snapped in his hand, soaking his wrist with the expensive bubbly liquid and no doubt staining his sleeve. His steps faltered and he would have stumbled had he not pivoted on his heel and followed instead a crowd of squawking press that blustered past. There was a strange hard lump in his throat and his hand was stinging – the crystal had sliced into his palm and he was bleeding. He needed to get out of here, find someplace to think. 

Finally, he spotted a service door that led to the upper floor and he slipped inside, not caring if it was off bounds or even if an alarm sounded. How could Zach be so cruel? So fucking nasty. He knew he was a constant source of irritation to the other man, but had his animosity really run that far? He didn’t think it had, but then he hadn’t really known Zach all that well. Obviously, he was worse than he thought. 

The service door led to an outside balcony, one that was apparently off limits because there was no-one else up there, but that was fine by him. He didn’t need anyone staring at him right now. He glanced down at his bleeding hand and pulled free a sliver of crystal, holding his handkerchief to the wound and watching it turn slowly crimson. If only the glass hadn’t broken he could really have used its contents right now, he mused ironically, taking a deep draught of the night air. 

After a few moments of silence, he came to a realisation – one that had been in the back of his mind ever since he’d started this stupid farce. He wasn’t suited to this kind of work: Zach had been right: this was hopeless. Sure he liked the fancy clothes and getting waited on was pretty nice, but it just wasn’t him. There was so much that made him uncomfortable, so much he was unfamiliar with (his freshly waxed genitals were proof of this). So tomorrow he’d call Karl and say ‘thanks but no thanks’ to his offer to front his campaign, he’d ask him politely not to use the new shots of him at Fashion week. He couldn’t go back to work with Zach, not even as his PA, not after that charming display. 

It wasn’t for him, and as he stared out at the Paris skyline, he realised that was ok. He wouldn’t go back to the glittering party, he’d wait up here and make his escape once he saw Zach leave, he couldn’t face him again, not without saying something he’d probably regret. 

He was just settling down against the railing when the service door opened and Zach stood there before him. 

“We need to talk”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Had a few problems these last few days, basically the culmination of a truly crappy week.   
> So after a totally new OS FOR my MAC,and a new internet device, (the last one totally shit itself), I should be back to posting regularly. 
> 
> Midnight in Paris is one of my favourite movies.

“I don’t think you’ve got anything else to say to me, Zach. You said it all inside” Chris’s voice was flat and low, absent of any kind of inflection. Zach bit the inside of his cheek, ashamed of himself. 

“I’m sorry about…that. It was an awful thing to say,” he said, letting the door swing shut behind him. 

“Yeah it was, but it’s obviously the truth so I can understand why you said it” Chris stood up and Zach noticed the blood-stained handkerchief held against his palm. 

After a few moments of silence, Chris spoke again. “You know what I can’t understand, though?”

He swallowed, knowing he wasn’t going to like this. “What’s that?”

“If that was…is how you feel, then why didn’t you help me? I’m totally out of my depth here, and I had this weird idea that as my friend, you would have helped me. But I guess I was wrong”

Zach wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole, what an asshole he’d been, he’d well and truly outdone himself. 

“About what?”

Chris sighed. “About you being a friend, of sorts. We’ve been through some pretty wild times, Zach. I’ve been working with you for years – I thought we had something here”

“We did. We do I mean. Chris, I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry I was such an asshole in there, I’m sorry I am continuing to be an asshole, I guess it’s my natural state. I guess when I saw how hot Karl made you I freaked out, didn’t know how to handle it. I’m sorry”

“Even before all that Zach, you’ve always been distant. I mean I know celebs don’t get pally with the help, but I don’t know. Maybe this just proves it all” Chris said, frowning down at his hand. 

“It proves nothing Chris, only that I’m a shit head. Didn’t you see how everyone was staring at you in there? You’re hot Chris, and you’ve come out of nowhere to land one of the biggest jobs in the industry. You’re right, I should have helped you from the beginning, but I was jealous. It’s a new feeling for me, it’s going to take some getting used to” he admitted, finally putting a name to the wraithlike emotion that had been brewing inside him recently. He had been completely and utterly jealous – and under that was a growing sense of attraction. 

“You? Jealous, of me?” Chris asked as if finding this supremely hard to believe. 

Zach nodded. “Yep. I totally was. Plus I find you really attractive. It’s an odd mix of feelings”

Chris chuckled and shook his head. “Please don’t be jealous of me. After tonight you don’t have to anymore, you don’t even have to see me anymore”

“Why?”

“I’m giving it all away. I don’t want this life, Zach, I don’t want the cameras, the posing, the plucking and waxing, the staring. I can’t handle it. So I’m quitting Urban, quitting Karl and this crazy industry. And quitting you, so please don’t be jealous anymore. There’s really no reason to be”

His mouth dropped open. “Are you nuts? I mean, I know you’re nuts you’ve been putting up with me for the last five years, but seriously? I don’t want you to quit, Karl doesn’t want you to quit. Half the designers in that room back there don’t want you to quit – half of them want to snag you for work, and the other half want to shag you. Please don’t give it all away”

Chris ran a hand through his hair, sighing again. “I don’t see anything else to do. I’m unhappy doing this Zach”

“I’ll help you. I’ll do what I should have done before, what I should have been doing from the start. I’ll help, I’ll show you the ropes, tell you all the inside gossip and how to get through uncomfortable situations. Please don’t give it all away,” he said earnestly, ignoring the pleading note to his voice. Chris had no reason to stay in the industry, and he’d given him no reason to stay anywhere near him. 

Please don’t give me away, just when I really found you was what he should have said, but he’d always been a slow learner. He just had to hope that it wasn’t too late. 

Chris stared at him for a moment, the diamond in his stick- pin glinting in the dim light. Finally, he nodded. 

“Ok,” he said quietly. 

Zach let out a breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been holding, relief coursing through him. “Thank you. Really”

Chris smiled faintly and glanced down at his hand again. Zach wondered why he’d been holding it all this while, and wondered at the blood- stains there. 

“You’re bleeding,” he said obviously. 

Chris huffed a laugh and pulled the fabric away to glance at the injury. “Yeah, the champagne flute snapped in my hand. It’s nothing major, just stings a bit”

“I’m sorry,” Zach said, moving closer to inspect his hand. Chris’s palm was cool and damp in his as he lightly held it, his fingers long and elegant. He wore no jewellery, no embellishments of any kind save for the cufflinks and Zach quite admired this. It took guts to do such a thing, something he could never do. 

“Bleeding’s almost stopped I think,” he pointed out inexpertly. 

“Ok Doctor. Does that mean I have to go back inside now?”

He chuckled. “Not if you don’t want to. Plus you’ve already intrigued half the people in there. I’d say your work for the night is done. Are you hungry?”

“Starving actually, I didn’t have anything before I arrived”

He frowned, concerned. “Why not? These things are stressful Chris: you should always try to eat a meal beforehand. Saves you fainting from a sugar low”

Chris shrugged. “I was too nervous”

Zach tut-tutted and went back to the service door. “Come on, my treat. I know a place”

***

He took Chris to a small bistro that was open late and they had a tasty meal of bread, cheese, and sweet red wine while watching the late night foot traffic. The threatening clouds he’d seen when they first flew in had opened up and drenched the city and everything was blurred and soft-edged. Once he’d admitted his stupidity he found the conversation flowed really easily, and despite his shyness, Chris was in fact, perfectly lovely. He couldn’t believe he’d been such an asshat, and made a promise to himself to be the best PA any model had ever had. 

Instead of taking a car back to the hotel they decided to walk, Chris said he’d never had much of a chance to see the city despite having visited several times. 

“How come?” Zach asked, the streetlights glimmering on the wet pavement. 

“Well, you always kept me pretty busy Zach. I just didn’t have time” Chris had his hands shoved in his pockets but his eyes were hungrily roaming around, taking in the late night sights, the softly pattering rain, the way the lights glinted off the Seine. This city suited him. 

“I’m sorry,” he said automatically, wondering just how much of an ass he’d been. It seemed that was all he was saying tonight or versions thereof. 

“It’s fine, stop apologising. If I hadn’t started working for you I wouldn’t have even come here, let alone be doing this” 

“Having a ‘Midnight in Paris’ moment?” he asked slyly – for once remembering a little fact he’d discovered. He knew it was Chris’s favourite movie because every time they flew into the city for work he cued it up on his tablet. 

Chris smiled. “I totally am. Getting tired now though”

“We; we’re nearly there”

They walked on in silence until they reached the hotel, then went up to their rooms. Instead of shoving him off and ignoring him, Zach followed him inside. 

“Need anything?” he asked as he watched Chris slide off his jacket, standing there in just his trousers and shirt. 

“Um, I don’t think so. Might just head off for some shut eye” 

“I can get that dry cleaned for you. The shirt too. The champagne stained the sleeve,” he pointed out, noticing the splotch marks. He held out his hand, aware that this was probably the first job he’d ever done willingly for Chris. 

“Ok, uh here you go” Chris had started stammering again, something he only seemed to do when stressed or nervous and Zach hoped he wasn’t making him uncomfortable. Sounded like he’d been doing that a lot lately. 

He turned away when Chris slid out of his shirt and didn’t make a sound when he felt the other man step closer. The fabric was still slightly warm in his hands and still carried the scent of Chris’s skin. He grabbed the jacket and turned to the door. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Bright and early. Breakfast at seven?” he said, opening the door to the hall. 

Chris nodded, his chest gloriously bare. “Sure. Thanks, Zach”

He smiled, quashing his attraction. They needed to be friends first, then if something developed…But he really needed to make it up to the other man somehow, everything he’d done, and said in the asshole department, (of which was just about everything). 

“See you in the morning Chris,” he said, shutting the door and heading back to his own room across the hall.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There actually was a fashion show made of garbage. It was at Toronto fashion week in 2010, the designer Baby Steinberg presented a show with garments made from salvage items. Huh. The outfits i described probably wouldn't work, but eh. 
> 
> Ten Tonne Tessie was the nickname British Bomber Command crews gave to the new RAF 22000 pound bomb. There was also a Welsh singer called Tessie O'Shea who capitalised on her weight by adopting the song Two Ton Tessie as her signature song. I always use the phrase when I'm feeling particularly fat and unattractive. I'm not sure if it's a widely used idiom in America. It is here in Australia. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“So is there any way to not feel ridiculous up there?” Chris asked two days later. They were at yet another rehearsal for the runway and he just couldn’t shake his awkwardness up there. 

Zach shook his head. “No, the most I can say is listen to the music and don’t forget your cue. You don’t look awkward by the way”

“I don’t?” Chris asked, shocked. He sure felt it. 

“No, not at all. Some of the others do, but then that’s their thing. Delightfully attractive blocks of wood”

Chris laughed, glad he felt like he could finally do this with the other man. Things were much improved between them now, ever since their talk on the balcony they’d both relaxed and like he promised, Zach was now much more helpful. 

“Well I’m glad I don’t resemble one of those then,” he said, watching another designer bark orders at the assembled models, all of which were dressed in rather strange outfits. Most of the items on display at Fashion week were of high fashion, rendering them weird to the general public (and usually to him too), but this designer had made everything from what looked like garbage. One woman was wearing an outfit made of what looked like orange tape, and another looked to be draped in shiny black garbage bags. Very weird. 

Karl had arrived the day before, taking them to lunch in what looked to be a stupidly exclusive and highly priced restaurant in downtown Paris. The food had been divine, but bite-sized portions, and so he and Zach had had to make arrangements for more food once they left. There had been another gala yesterday afternoon, following the debut runway show and he’d gotten his first real taste of what was in store. You wouldn’t think strutting down a straight, flat catwalk would be difficult, but it was oddly absorbing. He was just thankful he didn’t have to wear the towering stiletto’s that the women did. 

Now they were in rehearsals for Karl’s show, which was to take place that night. His show was paired with the garbage designer and while it wasn’t on the final night, it was definitely a show on the radar of the big wigs – as Zach had helpfully informed him that morning, (as if he needed the extra pressure!). 

Since Karl was so adamant on showcasing him, Chris had three outfits, which meant a series of quick changes backstage. All he had to do was stand there while his dresser, Vanya stripped him, then redressed him in a manner of moments. At first, he thought he’d be embarrassed but there simply wasn’t time. 

“You get used to it” Zach had said. 

“Being naked in front of people?” 

Zach rolled his eyes. “Not exactly, but sort of. Besides no-one is even looking at you back there, they don’t have time”

“That’s true,” he’d agreed, and his embarrassment had abated a fraction. 

They didn’t speak for a moment, just watched the craziness around them. This rehearsal would take the rest of the afternoon and the real show would begin later that night, at 9pm. Hopefully, there would be some time to catch a quick nap, but Chris doubted it. 

“Zachary? I haven’t seen you in years” a crisply accented voice pulled him from his study of the latest garbage outfit, and he turned to see an almost blindingly handsome man standing before them. 

“Ragnar? Oh wow, it has been years. How are you?” Zach rose and embraced the other man, inviting him to sit with them for a few moments. 

“Chris this is Ragnar Svartheim” 

“Hello, nice to meet you” Chris extended his hand, but the Nordic God before him deigned not to take it, instead his eyes roamed freely over his body before he turned back to Zach. Retracting his hand, Chris sat back down. 

Ragnar it seemed was in the garbage show, even though he was dressed plainly at the moment, in black: which only served to accentuate his Scandinavian features. His hair was so blonde it was almost white, and his eyebrows and lashes were the same colour, which made his beautiful cerulean eyes stand out even more. He was slim and taut, and even though Chris had a decent body, he felt like Ten Tonne Tessie sitting next to him. 

“Zachary and I used to see one another. Romantically” Ragnar informed him after a few moments of chit-chat. 

“Right,” he said, wondering how he’d never seen this guy before. Maybe it was before he’d started working with Zach. 

“I’d hardly call it romantic,” Zach said under his breath. Ragnar turned his glacial features to him, eyes widening in surprise. 

“We had sex Zachary, multiple times. To me, this is romance”

Chris was quickly starting to think of Ragnar as one of those aforementioned blocks of wood. Attractive: but kind of missing something upstairs. Still, he felt intimidated. 

“And what do you do Chris?” Ragnar asked although he didn’t really sound all that interested in his answer. 

“Chris is a model – he’s in the Urban show tonight” Zach stepped in smoothly as if sensing his hesitation. When referring to himself as a model, Chris still tended to giggle.

“Good for you. You must be new, I have not seen you before”

“Yeah,” he said lamely, wondering how he was going to get out of this awkwardness. 

“Zachary we should meet for dinner later if you are free? We have much to catch up on” Ragnar asked, turning his focus away from Chris, who chose that moment to make his exit. 

“I’ll be back in a bit,” he muttered at Zach’s questioning glance. 

Karl looked a bit surprised to see him sidle up next to him, but Chris didn’t really care that he was probably too busy to hang for a few moments – he just needed to get away from Thor. 

“How you going, Chris?” Karl asked, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Super”

Karl chuckled. “I know it’s a lot to take in. You’re doing great, though. I’m very proud, we all are”

“I still have no idea what I’m doing,” Chris said, his eyes trained on Zach, who was still deep in conversation with Ragnar. What could they possibly have to talk about? 

Karl shook his head. “Yes, you do. You’ll be fine. Who’s Zach’s friend?”  
,  
“Huh?” Chris asked, still staring at the glamorous couple. 

Karl raised an eyebrow. “That guy over there, the one you couldn’t seem to get away from fast enough. Tall, blonde, looks like he hails from Asgard”

“Oh, Ragnar something. Can’t remember his last name. He is pretty good looking isn’t he?”

“Yes and no. In an icy: untouchable kind of way. Very high-fashion, his face is great for editorials. He auditioned for me, did you know that?” 

Chris’s mouth fell open. “What? Why did you pick me over him? I’m nothing like that”

Karl leaned toward him. “No, you’re not, but do you want to know something?”

“What?” he asked, chewing his bottom lip and watching as Ragnar drifted around the room, a butterfly seeming to light on things willy-nilly. People fluttered to him, though, attracted by his beauty, wanting to be included in his orbit. 

“You’re more accessible. People respond to your looks Chris. That’s why I picked you. Ragnar over there could never work for me, not unless he has a major turn around in the looks department. Anyway, I don’t need to tell you this. You know why I hired you. Now get backstage, we’re up for another run through”

He nodded and started moving toward the stage door, pushing past the various people who seemed determined to get in his way. Just before the door swung shut behind him he cast about for one more glimpse of Zach. 

But the other man had gone.

***

Chris finally made it back to his hotel a few hours later, and jumped immediately into the shower, almost moaning aloud as the hot water cascaded over him, washing away the grit and grime of the day. He had to be back at the venue in 2 hours, but he didn’t care, all he wanted was some sleep and maybe a little food. The last few days it had felt like he was playing a constant game of catch up, and he felt vaguely like he was coming down with something. 

Zach still hadn’t resurfaced, but he’d gotten through the rest of the rehearsals with no problem, thank you very much. Zach didn’t need to oversee his every move, like a helicopter parent with a wayward child. Still he found he liked having the other guy around, Zach was funny and smart, and even had moments of niceness. If only he’d been like this when he was working for him. 

Once he’d dried off he ordered some light nosh and curled up on the bed, trying not to think too much about the upcoming show. Of course with this show done, it meant he could quit this silly farce and go back to normal, but it also meant the end of his time with Zach. If anything it had served to illustrate just how much of his own life he’d been missing – he needed to start his own career in an industry he enjoyed. He’d miss Zach, but he really didn’t think Zach would miss him – he would have returned hours ago if he’d been even a little concerned about him. 

Still, there was so much he didn’t know about the other man – one nice conversation over bread and wine wasn’t enough to cement anything really. Rolling over he dragged the blanket up to cover him, a slow smile spreading over his face. Maybe they could go out again after the show, maybe he could ask him on an actual date. 

But maybe not. After all, he was still bumbling, awkward, (hopeless) Chris. And Zach was pretty much perfection on a plate.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Savile Row is that famous street in London where beautiful bespoke suits are made. 'Bespoke' means made to order. 
> 
> Oh and we're nearly finished!

The first thing that went through Zach’s mind as he was pushed into Ragnar’s hotel room: was that this was wrong. He shouldn’t be here - he should be back at Fashion Central, watching Chris get ready for the show. Not here, with the Swede’s tongue in his mouth: not here, feeling Ragnar’s hands tugging at his trousers (even though that felt pretty damn good). Chris was more important than this, this quick fumble in the dark. 

“Ragnar…stop” he mumbled, pushing the other man away. 

“Why Zach?” he asked, his lips swollen, eyes deep dark pools in the dim room. 

He heaved a breath and ran a hand through his hair, trying to get himself back under control. Ragnar was hot but he was a scumbag and Zach couldn’t believe he’d momentarily forgotten that. Sure they’d been romantic once or twice in the past, but Zach had broken it off after realising that Ragnar would never be faithful. He would be perennially stuck in moments like these, snatched embraces in darkened rooms, lonely and sad until he was too old to find someone new. 

“I can’t do this. We can’t do this. We shouldn’t be doing this. You have a show tonight: remember? In one hour. Don’t you think you need to get to the venue? 

Ragnar smiled. “They will wait for me. They can’t do the show without me”

“You arrogant prick” Zach said with no malice. Everyone knew what he was like. 

Ragnar gave a Gallic shrug and turned to the wet bar, filling a tumbler with a few fingers of bourbon. 

“I have to go” Zach said, readjusting himself in his pants and attempting to neaten his hair. If he left now he could just make it in time for Chris’s show. 

“Back to your little model? Chris?”

“Yeah. He’s a good man” 

Ragnar set his empty glass down. “He’ll never be a model Zach. He’ll get eaten alive”

“That’s what I’m there to stop. Goodbye, Ragnar. Don’t call me again,” he said, letting the door swish shut behind him.

***

Chris felt sick. Literally sick, palms sweating, throat clenching, ass falling through his stomach, sick. His mouth was full of saliva, which made him swallow overtime, which made his gag reflex rise up, which only served to make him feel more nauseous. He had visions of himself projectile vomiting at the end of the catwalk, all over Anna Wintour, who would stare at him disdainfully before declaring he would be a nothing for the rest of his life. 

Vanya stood next to him, watching him closely. Chris wondered how many times he’d had to watch spewy models. The lights above him were hot and steady, and every so often his make-up artist would have to reapply the product that covered his face. Hopefully, Karl wouldn’t mind the melted wax look tonight, because Chris was pretty sure that was what he looked like right now. 

If only Zach were there, if only he’d been there that whole afternoon, to spare him a kind word or tell him to relax, that he’d be fine, that it was ok. That he’d get through this. But Zach hadn’t made an appearance and Chris hadn’t had a chance to look out into the seating area, and more importantly he hadn’t had the guts to ask Vanya or Karl to do it either. All he needed to do was get through this next hour and he could go back to his hotel – skipping the after party. He just wasn’t in the mood. 

Man he’d really thought Zach would come through for him, he mused as the line of well-dressed models started inching their way toward the black curtains, through which was the catwalk, and certain doom. Well, maybe not certain doom, but doom of some kind. 

“Remember Chris, after your first outfit, go straight to the station for the second. Vanya will be waiting. Same for the third, but stay in that one. I want you to come back up with me when I take a walk” Karl instructed him for what felt like the billionth time that day. Stand here Chris, wear that Chris, walk this way Chris, not quite so quickly Chris. Slowly, like you’re trying to seduce a lover. 

Yeah sure. 

“Ok,” he said breathlessly, trying not to wipe his sweaty palms on the legs of his pants. At least he was covered for his first run, his second involved the hated swimwear, but the third he liked – a black suit with Karl’s signature tailoring, reminiscent of the best suits of Savile Row. 

“You’ll be fine Chris,” Karl said, and gave his back a light pat before he stepped out from behind the curtain, the white lights momentarily blinding him. The crowd seemed horribly close, but at least they were applauding he thought as he moved forward, keeping his eyes up and his gait even. Don’t trip, don’t trip, please don’t trip. 

At the pause at the end of the catwalk, he levelled his eyes around the room, hoping for a familiar face. One second, two, three and the fellow behind him cleared his throat in an effort to get him to move on. Then he saw him. 

Zach was pushing his way through the crowd, heedless of who went flying until he’d reached the front line. The momentary fuss caused the security guards to step forward officiously, but Zach was already seated, his dark gaze fixed on Chris, who felt an instant sense of relief roll through him. He’d come! He was down there looking at him, smiling that amazingly sexy smile and everything would be ok now. He’d get through this. 

Now he could move on, and the rest of the show passed in a whirlwind of colour, light and thumping music and he didn’t realise it was over until someone shoved a glass of something wet, cold and refreshingly alcoholic into his hand. Karl was ecstatic, the crowd was applauding madly and all he wanted to do was go and find Zach. After all, they’d both worked so hard on this moment, he felt they should celebrate it together. 

“See you at the party!” Karl yelled at him over the chaos, before he was borne away on a tide of well wishes and congratulations, cheering and generally carrying on. 

“You did good Chris,” said Vanya, who was small, Russian and very pretty. 

“Thanks. You can go and join all…that, if you like. I’m good here,” Chris said, sitting in his chair in front of the mirror. Everyone was filtering off now, disappearing for the various parties and celebrations that were going on, even though it wasn’t officially the end of Fashion Week. It was a little amazing really, just how fast everything dissipated – almost like it had never been there at all. 

After Vanya disappeared he sat back in the chair, running a hand through his hair, which was still sticky with product. Now that it was all over, he was well and truly exhausted. 

“They’re right you know. You did do good out there”

Zach’s voice echoed slightly in the space and he turned around, smiling at the sight of the other man. 

“Did I?”

Zach smiled and leaned his hip against the make-up counter. 

“Yes. I’m proud of you”

Now it was Chris’s turn to smile and he felt something warm balloon out inside his chest. 

“I didn’t think you were going to come,” he said after a moment. 

Zach sighed. “I got delayed by something stupid. But I was always going to come. Wouldn’t miss it for the world”

“Something stupid?” 

“I’ll tell you tomorrow. Over lunch”

Chris sat back in the chair, fixing a gimlet eye on Zach. “I might be busy tomorrow”

Zach leaned closer and gripped the armrest of Chris’s chair. “I cleared your schedule”

“That’s awfully presumptuous of you Mr. Quinto” Chris swallowed as Zach came even closer, felt his breath on his cheek. 

“You know what else is presumptuous?” 

He shook his head mutely. 

“This,” Zach said, and kissed him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope no-one is disappointed by the lack of smut in this fic. Normally I do include at least one sex scene, but this time around it just didn't seem to fit. I could write one and include it, but it would seem gratuitous and wrong and would spoil the cavity-inducing sweetness of this fic. Honestly, I didn't think it would turn out this sugary. I apologise heh. 
> 
> The Temple of Love is a real place in Paris. It looks so lovely and romantic. You can find pictures of it here.http://www.messynessychic.com/2016/02/11/10-romantic-things-to-do-in-paris-other-than-love-locking-on-a-bridge/

“I still can’t believe I didn’t fall on my face last night” Chris joked, staring up at the sky, a lazy smile on his face. 

Zach shook his head, still setting up their impromptu picnic. “Well it was a perfectly flat surface”

Chris turned his head, the sun casting hollows in his eyes and cheeks. “Do you know me? I have a spectacular ability to fall over on completely flat surfaces”

Zach laughed and set a glass down beside him. They were in the Jardin Des Tuileries and had managed to find a somewhat secluded section – no easy feat. He’d brought food and drink and hopefully they could spend the rest of the afternoon here, talking and getting to know one another properly. 

“Yes well, hopefully, you’ve gotten over that bad habit” 

Chris chuckled and stared up at the sky again, closing his eyes against the bright sunshine. While he still looked tired and well and truly worn out the little lines of anxiety and stress that Zach had noticed were gone. It was nice to see him look so relaxed. 

“So what now?” he asked after a while. 

Chris sighed. “I honestly don’t know Zach. I have no idea what to do with my life, well I have vague ideas but it all seems pretty far away from where I am now. I do know one thing, though”  
,  
“What’s that?” Zach asked, settling down on his stomach on the rug. 

Chris looked at him. “I can’t do this anymore Zach, I think it’s time we stop kidding ourselves. It’s been nice I’m not going to lie: well not all of it, but a lot has been great. I’m not a model, though: even saying that out aloud makes me laugh”

“What would you do then?” he asked, feeling disappointed but unsurprised that this was what Chris wanted. 

“I think I’d like to be a teacher,” Chris admitted, a little shyly. 

“You’d be a great teacher,” Zach said, absently brushing back Chris’s hair, letting his fingers linger on the smooth skin of his forehead. What about me, he was shrieking in his head. 

Chris sighed and gave his head a little shake. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t even know the first thing about getting into that profession”

“You’d need an education degree, or something equivalent. Have you studied at all?” Zach asked, curious. They’d never taken the time before to really get to know one another, but now lying on the grass in the garden seemed as good a time as any. 

“Yeah I have. English – which is where I’d want to work. Maybe history too, I don’t know” 

“Well, I can’t imagine it being overly difficult from there to get into teaching. I mean you’d have to do any additional study, and get registered and all that. Where are you thinking of working by the way?”

Chris sat up, bracing himself on an elbow so he could look at him properly. “Back in the States. New York maybe”

“That’s handy,” he said, feeling his spirits lift a bit. If Chris stayed in New York then it meant they could still see one another. He was there all the time for work. 

“Why’s that?” Chris asked, sipping his wine slowly. 

“Well, it means that we could still see one another. I’m in New York all the time for work – I have an apartment there. That’s if you want to”

“Want to what?” Chris asked, a teasing note in his voice. His eyes were doing that lovely smiley thing they did when he was happy, crinkling at the corners. 

He blew out a breath. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

Chris laughed. “Yeah I am. See how uncomfortable it is to squirm Zachary”

He rolled his eyes. “If you still want to see me. After you give all this away. I’m just worried you’re going to give me away too – I haven’t given you many reasons to stick around. But I’d like to – keep seeing you that is”

There was a small smile lurking at the corners of Chris’s mouth, and it burst into full bloom suddenly. 

“I’d like to as well” 

“Good” Zach said, and cupping Chris’s cheek gently, he pulled him in for a kiss.

***

“Now where are we going?” Chris asked later that night, once again being propelled along by Zach who had yet another ‘surprise’ in order. Their lunch in the Jardin Des Tuileries had been lovely, and after that they’d explored Paris like he’d always wanted to do, stopping for coffee at the trendy bistro’s that lined the streets, renting bikes and even going all the way to the top of the Eiffel Tower. It was a wonderful end to what had been a pretty madcap trip. 

“You’ll see. Hurry up, though, we don’t want to miss it” Zach said, chivvying him along in front of him, as he’d done when they left the Metro station. The foot traffic out here in this district was far less than in the very centre of Paris, thinning out even further when they reached the Bois de Vincennes. This was the largest public park in the city and even boasted a lake. 

They crossed the Lac Daumesnil via a bridge, small boats floating along in the cool, sun-kissed water below them. They were filled with couples, kissing or embracing and Chris reached for Zach’s hand impulsively, still unsure of the boundaries in their newfound romance. Was Zach worried about paparazzi? Did he mind the handholding?

Apparently he didn’t mind because he drew him closer and slipped an arm around his shoulders as they reached the little island in the centre of the water, the Ile de Reuilly and he saw for the first time, the temple there – the Temple Romantique, also known as the Temple of love. The sunset cast a pink glow over the water, which reflected on the columns of the temple and shimmered on the ceiling. It was totally deserted and unbelievably romantic. 

“Oh Zach this is beautiful” he breathed moving to stand in the centre of the temple, letting the sun’s last warmth wash over his body. His voice echoed slightly amidst the stone, but apart from that, it was utterly silent. 

“Thought you might like it” 

He turned, sensing something in the other man’s voice. “What?”

“I had to make up for it somehow. To make it up to you”

He shook his head, moving closer to stand within the circle of Zach’s arms. “Make up for what?”

“The awful way I treated you, especially at that party. I’m really, very sorry. Can you forgive me?”

Chris hugged him tightly, burying his face in Zach’s neck. “Forgiven”

Zach breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you”

Together they watched the sun sink below the horizon, the warmth fading from the stone temple and the lights of the city glinting off the water, drawing them closer together. After a quick exploration of the subterranean grotto beneath the temple, they headed back to the main part of Paris, neither man wanting the night to end.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of this one. Thank you so much for reading it and taking the time to comment or leave kudos. I love hearing what people think. :)
> 
> I hope no-one is disappointed by the ending. 
> 
> I do have another Pinto fic to post, but it's incomplete at the moment, and I'd like the get farther ahead before i start posting. It'll be up shortly though.

2 years later

Zach slipped his sunglasses off as he stepped inside the building, glancing around for a moment before he went to the reception desk. After giving his details he was allowed to go, following the directions the receptionist had given him to the English block building. 

He still couldn’t quite believe he was here – that he’d managed to get some time off, the first significant block he’d had in a while now. In truth, he was maybe starting to feel that his career should take a different direction – in the last year he’d been tentatively drawing up plans and ideas for his own design house, based in New York for two reasons. One being that it was a major fashion hub, and the other so that he could be close to his partner, former PA and one-time model Chris. 

True to his word Chris had given it all away at the end of Paris fashion week two years ago, much to the shock and dismay of Karl Urban and the hoard of other designers that were desperate to get their hands on him. While it hadn’t been a surprise to him, he’d not been able to help the disappointment. Chris had so much potential and had such a good start that to throw it all away seemed crazy. But Zach had known he was unhappy, had seen it on his face, and so he’d let him go. 

Chris had come back to New York, finished his study, found an apartment (thanks to the money he’d paid him as a PA he’d secured a rather nice apartment), and a job and had begun the new phase of his life – as an English teacher at a high school in downtown New York. And he loved and blossomed doing it – in total contrast to how he’d been before, working in an industry he’d tolerated rather than loved, with people that spoke down to him, rather than as the intelligent man he was. 

Zach had really noticed the change in him, gone was the uncertain stammer and while he was still shy and softly spoken, now he commanded the respect of his students and got good results with them. It was fantastic to see, and even more fantastic to get to be a part of. After their first few bumpy months of managing a long distance relationship, they’d settled into their rhythm and had been going strong ever since. And now that his design house had been approved…

Once he found the classroom he lingered outside, listening to Chris’s voice as he took the students through their last lesson for the day. He’d been a little surprised when Chris said he wanted to teach the older kids, but once he’d settled in he performed his task admirably, running lesson plans past him, asking his opinion on the syllabus and the assigned novels to read. He held Chris responsible for expanding his own reading list – something that had been severely lacking before he’d met him. 

The bell rang and he took a step back as the halls were flooded with students leaving for the holiday period, laughing and screeching amongst themselves as they poured out of the rooms and buildings, shoes squeaking on the floor. Finally, the classroom was empty and he stepped inside, seeing Chris at the desk at the front of the room, making some final notes on something or other. He still had the stylish Prada frames and the well-cropped hair, but the schoolyard was no place for the tailored suits and silk shirts Zach knew were still in his closet. It seemed that Chris’s foray into the modelling world had left him with rather discerning tastes: even now dressed for school he had a sense of style about him. Zach wondered if any of his female students had crushes on him. 

“Excuse me Sir, but I think class is over” he called softly, after shutting the door. 

Chris’s head jerked up and he grinned widely, dropping his pen and rushing to embrace him. 

“You’re early!” his voice was muffled, but it was impossible to hide his excitement. 

“I managed to get an early flight. And some time off. And I have some really big news” he said, holding Chris tightly. God, he was glad to see him. 

Chris pulled back, his glasses askew. “The design house? It got approved?”

He laughed. “Yes. It all starts in a month, Karl is coming over from New Zealand to help out. The building stuff all got approved yesterday”

Chris hugged him again, silent for a moment. This design house meant he would be permanently based in New York, which finally meant they could start living together properly. 

“I missed you,” Chris said after a moment, his arms still wrapped around him.   
,  
“I missed you too. Always” he answered, kissing the top of Chris’s head. He didn’t know the school policy of PDA’s but thought it best to maybe leave the heavy stuff until they were at home. 

Speaking of. “Are you just about done here?” he asked, releasing Chris and glancing at the papers on the desk. 

“Oh yeah. I can do that stuff later. It’s mostly for next term. I’m really happy for you Zach, I know you’ve been wanting this design house for a while now”

“I know. Thank you. Shall we go home?”

Chris smiled and leaned up for a quick kiss. “Yes. Let’s go home”


End file.
